


Lovesong (The Snow Queen)

by fairlightscales



Series: 33 and 1/3 [13]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types, Snedronningen | The Snow Queen - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Falling In Love, Friendship, Innocence, Quests, Ross and Dem, Snow Queen Elements, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairlightscales/pseuds/fairlightscales
Summary: The Snow Queen: Ross as Kay, Demelza as Gerda and Elizabeth as the Snow Queen
Relationships: Demelza Carne/Ross Poldark
Series: 33 and 1/3 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1420387
Comments: 44
Kudos: 37





	1. Diamond Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well met

Prudie gathered up her market basket and bade Dem bide at home and not open the door to strangers while she was shopping. Dem nodded, waved goodbye from the window and watched Prudie set off, nodding greetings to neighbors she passed. Dem sat near the unlit hearth, next to the elderly Garrick, their beloved old dog and sang little songs, half to him, half to herself as she petted him. Garrick soon dozed and she smiled to see it. She stood up, to let him rest, and padded to the window for she was in her stocking feet. She wore red, knit tights that shone brightly against her apple green smock, sprigged with printed flowers and long, cream colored sleeves that puffed out a little at the wrists from her shift underneath. She looked into the courtyard, where Prudie's garden lay, alongside the house, obscured from the street by a brick wall between their house and the one next door. On the left side was a trellis that had a bower of cool, green ivy growing, a welcome spot in warm weather. A patch of sea pinks flanked either side and a row of pansies brightened the border. A stretch of paved terrace, red bricks in a herringbone pattern lay inbetween with various sizes of clay pots, holding herbs and flowers, lining the sides by the wall, along their house on one side and quite near the neighbor's wall across the way. Some were glazed in bright colors, some were terra cotta and plain, all holding bright flowers and green plants, fragrant and colorful. Small, fat bumblebees wove in and out between them humming a low, droning noise that was calming to hear. To the right, at the wall opposite, was a lilac tree that grew up from a round border of smooth, rounded stones, encircled around the trunk within the brick floor. Two strawberry pots hung at its right from the eaves of the house and a second bower of white and pink tea roses with glossy, dark green leaves and thorns as fine as hairs on their vines. The lilacs and roses were strongly scented. During the warm summer days, Dem often napped beneath the shade of their flowers and their sweet perfume. In the center of the courtyard was a modest wooden bench to sit upon and against the wall, by the door that led out from the house were two basket chairs and a small table. Prudie would entertain neighborhood women and take tea there in fair weather. She and Dem would often sit, with Garrick at their feet. As Prudie knit or did her mending, she would tell Dem fanciful stories. In winter, they would have these tales by the warm fire of the hearth. Dem's eyes widened as she looked to the lilac tree. There was a child standing there, quite still, in front of the tree. He had dark hair about his head, overlong and no ribbon to keep it tidy. It fell in loose, wavy curls, a bit longer than ordinary for a boy, even if the mother was sentimental and relished her son's curls. He wore grey woolen stockings and fawn brown knee breeches. He had little black boots that laced and a blouse that was snowy white, not the light flax color boys often wore around here. He stood, motionless, looking up at the tree, then, a sudden movement as he brushed a little fist across his face. The boy was crying. Dem gave a gasp of dismay. He seemed very sad and all alone. She reasoned that a new family must have taken over the house next door. If that was so, she was not opening the door to a stranger. She was opening it to a neighbor she had not made acquaintance of yet. She straightened her smock so its folds fell properly and went to retrieve and buckle her soft, kid leather shoes. Dem's boots, much like the boy's in that they were black, ankle height and laced, we're for playing abroad and going into the village. She opened the upper half of the door. The door hinge to the courtyard creaked and had a lower gate and an upper gate so one could look in and converse but still have the lower door shut. The boy turned at the noise to see a young girl, peeking over the lower door. She was able to put her chin over it and had firey red hair in pretty curls about her face. A second creak as she opened the gate door and entered the yard. The boy's face was wet with tears and he blinked at her in surprise. The girl was as dainty as a doll. Her green pinafore smock set off her bright hair, a wondrous mane of red curls, about her shoulders and down her back. It also matched her eyes, tempered with a hint of blue in them as well as green. "Hello?" she said, with a look of sympathy. He hurriedly wiped at his face with his sleeve, gently puffed at the wrists, much like hers were and stood a little bit straighter. Jud always said a gentleman must give a lady her due, be she low born or high, one must honor a lady. He sniffed and gave a polite bow towards her. "Good day, miss..." Dem smiled. Prudie always said that a gentleman's bow must always be met with a curtsy. She was a well bred maid and it would not do to be mistaken for a kitchen maid who don't know to mind her manners. Dem curtsied towards him. This made the boy smile which came as a relief to Dem. Even though he was teary eyed, his smile transformed his face and made her glad. "Good day to ee, sir." She took a small step forward. "I'm Dem," she said, "Who are you?" The boy blinked, happily. The girl seemed quite friendly. It might be nice to have a friend... "I'm Ross," and he raised his chin a fraction, speaking like a little lord. "Ross Vennor Poldark." 'Oh!' Thought Dem, 'He sounds quite grand...' Then he sniffed again, he became sensitive looking and upset again. "Are you quite alright?" asked Dem. "Why are you sad, Ross Vennor Poldark?" Ross hesitated, not because he was shy or mistrusted her. The girl's voice around his name was like a tinkling bell. The pleasure in hearing it and his sadness fought a brief war. "I was looking at this lilac tree..." he sniffled again and wiped his eye with his sleeve once more. "My Mama had a lilac tree at our house, quite like this one..." Dem's heart went out to the small stranger. 'Had', he'd said. Maybe he was as motherless and fatherless as she was. "Your mama...?" she began, mimicked his pronunciation, a clipped way of saying it, different to the broad manner of children here. Young Ross was a child of the gentry. His face became a tearful crumple once more. "Mama and Papa are with the angels." he said, quietly. "Oh!" Dem rushed forward and gave him a hug in an attempt to forestall more tears. She felt Ross give an involuntary shudder against her as he sank his chin at her shoulder and hugged her back, clung to her in an embrace of his own with a laborious sigh that was at once mournful and strangely contented. He had been drawn into the courtyard by the scent of flowers and became overwhelmed by grief in the sight of a well grown lilac tree, so like the one at Nampara. At the moment Dem appeared, Ross fervently wished he could hug his mother. Dem's hug, her arms around him, the softness of her cheek so near his, was good medicine for what ailed him. Dem gave him a tighter squeeze and patted his back in the same way she might have stroked Garrick. "My Mum and Pa are with the angels too..." she began, but felt Ross stiffen at this. He stood straight again and looked to her with the same formality of his previous greeting. "Oh! I am very sorry, miss!" Dem smiled. Ross was intrigued. It was clear she missed her parents but she seemed to have a balance in her grief he lacked. She was dainty as a doll but quite strong. Dem reached to take his hand in hers. She smiled brightly at him. She was charmed by this little boy. He did not put on airs. It was clear he knew no other way of being. "I live here. Have you come to live in the house next door?" she asked. Ross smiled with a warm eagerness that was very sweet. "Yes, miss..." She giggled. "You can call me Dem! I am Demelza Lyon Carne." Ross's smile widened. 'Of course she would be strong, with so proud a name!' he thought. He brightened at the thought that her name certainly suited her, in her strength, in her lovely mane of red hair. Ross did not realize that it was spelt in the French manner or that the female of the species had no mane. "Well met, Demelza Lion Carne!" said Ross. A faint spot of blush colored his cheeks. He added, "Your name is very pretty!" Ross was happy to be allowed such informality and very much charmed by her given name as well.

Patty cake, Patty cake  
Bakers man  
Bake me a cake  
As fast as you can  
Roll it, pat it  
Mark it with a 'B'  
Put it in the oven  
For baby and me!

When Prudie came home from market, Garrick rose and crossed the room to greet her. She set down her basket, full of fruits and vegetables, nuts and eggs and gave him a loving scritch on the head as well as rubbing his neck with affection as she fussed over him. As she stood to collect her shopping and bear it away to the kitchen, she could hear Dem chanting 'Patty Cake' and stop suddenly. There was the giggling of...two?...children, coming from the yard. A stilted clapping of hands, slow and careful, as more giggling and a murmured explanation from Dem gave way to starting again. Perhaps a new family took the vacant house that had been the Widow Chegwidden's before she passed. Prudie came to the garden door, with the upper shutter open, to see Dem trying to teach a deeply uncoordinated maid Patty Cake. Mayhaps they were foreign, for the girl's hair was quite dark and surely every British maid knew Patty Cake?! Upon a closer look, Prudie suspicioned it must be a family from abroad. She had ribbed stockings on as if she was a... "Oh! Prudie's back! I live with Prudie. She looks after me!" said Dem in a mixture of forthright explanation and fondness. The child turned round on the bench. Prudie saw at once that she had mistaken the longish hair of a little boy for a girl. He scrabbled off the bench, with a little 'clip clop' of his shoes on the paved terrace and stood to face her. He was as dear as a mouse. He had dark eyes, a proud little chin and cheeks as rounded as apples, with a riot of dark brown curls framing his face. His clothes were not different than the other village boys save for the fact that they were made of better cloth. A finer weave to the fabric of his breeches, a finer rib to his stockings and, clearly, good Irish linen for his shirt. Prudie surmised he couldn't be much older than Dem and that this boy was gentry. Ross stood, for he was now in the presence of the lady of the house. "Good day, Ma'am." he said in a reedy little voice, in which one could hear a respectful mein. Prudie smiled at the young child's airs and graces, bowing like a little gent. She would soon come to see, as Dem did, that Ross came by his gentle manners honestly and without affectation. "Good day to ee, sir. I 'aven't 'ad the pleasure of makin' yer acquaintance." smiled Prudie as she entered the courtyard. He blinked up at her, a pleasant looking, older woman in a brown dress and light colored apron, hair caught up in a bun under a white mob cap trimmed with modest eyelet rather than fine lace. She looked kindly upon him. He tilted his chin up. "Ross Vennor Poldark, Ma'am." She smiled wider. There was a hint of pride in the recitation of his name. "A fine name, lad. Pleased to meet you, Master Ross. I be Prudie." She looked to Dem, already pleased to find a new playmate. "I see ee met Dem..." "Yes, Ma'am!" smiled Ross. She chuckled "Ee do me 'onor, lad, but ee must call me Prudie, luv." Ross grinned "Yes Ma'am, er, Prudie!" Dem stood herself and came to stand at his side. Prudie suspicioned they would be good friends, for the child seemed earnest, polite and happy to play and enjoy a girl's pastime like hand clapping without feeling it beneath him. "Do ee like cake, Master Ross?" He brightened. "Yes Ma...Prudie!" She smiled. "Then do please come in, Master Ross. There be almond cake an' milk" Dem took him by the hand, to show him where to wash his hands, as he called out, "Thank you, Ma'am!" over his shoulder, trotting along behind her and disappearing into the house. Ross found himself seated at a wooden table, polished smooth, the color of honey, laid with pretty floral patterned dishes and silverware without florid designs, plain and sturdy. He was brought to height with a small wooden box on a window seat bench, next to Dem, also seated on a box. The almond cake was sweet and delicious with slivers of almonds studding the top with a lovely sprinkle of icing sugar over it. The milk was quite cold and paired with the cake in a wonderful way. He and Dem pretended that they were having a royal feast and would watch a joust with brave knights and feats of skill and daring afterward. They spoke of these fancies as if they might be real and amused Prudie very much. A knock at the door. Prudie opened it to find an older man, in modest attire -quite respectable for all he looked modest. He bowed and removed his hat. "Beg pardon, Ma'am. I be Jud Paynter, yer neighbor, 'avin' moved in recent like. I be looking for a dark 'aired lad..." Ross piped up "Jud! I'm here!" Jud smiled. "Ah, Master Ross, ee led me a right merry chase! An' ee be next door all the while?" Ross blushed. "I'm sorry, Jud. I met Dem and Prudie and had cake!" Jud looked at him fondly, but spoke in a stern manner. "Ee mustn't go off an' disappear wi'out tellin' me. If ee be playin' I needs to know where ee be." Ross looked contrite. "Yes, Jud." Prudie smiled. "Will ee stay to tea, sir?" Jud nodded. " Thank ee, Ma'am. Much obliged, thank ee..." They sat and had tea and smiled over Ross and Dem resuming their tales of princesses riding marvelous horses with painted hooves and manes braided with jewels and armored knights fighting for their favor. Prudie and Jud, in the wise way of older folk, came to unspoken agreement that they would have a proper chat, out of the earshot of the youngsters, at a different time. For now, they spent a pleasant afternoon in the company of two fine gentlemen and two fine ladies, victualled with very good almond cake and companionship at the dawn of the beginning of a firm friendship for them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diamond Day, Vashti Bunyan 1970
> 
> Just another diamond day  
> Just a blade of grass  
> Just another bale of hay  
> And the horses pass
> 
> Just another field to plough  
> Just a grain of wheat  
> Just a sack of seed to sow  
> And the children eat
> 
> Just another life to live  
> Just a word to say  
> Just another love to give  
> And a diamond day


	2. Stay Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belonging

As Prudie hung sheets to dry in the courtyard, Ross and Dem darted around her and the gently wafting sheets, peering around corners and trotting back and forth -him chasing her, her chasing him. Their laughter was constant as well as shrieks when Dem would pop her head around the edge of a blowing sheet and surprise Ross or Ross would give chase and they ran around the perimeter of the courtyard, zig zagged among the drying laundry and around Prudie and her wicker basket of wet garments and wooden pins. At this, Prudie had to admit to herself that they were now getting underfoot, even as their play was charming. "I think it be time for a nap..." she began. Ross steadied himself against the laundry basket. It came up to his waist as it was a shallow basket. "I'm not sleepy!" he whined. Dem hugged Prudie's legs, at her skirts, and watched Ross' little rebellion with interest. Ross introduced new ideas and an element of anarchy to routines Dem had never questioned before. She had not considered it possible to push against naptime. Prudie ran a gentle hand over Dem's head and sighed. Ross was not an ill tempered boy but he did argue like a lawyer over situations that, to her mind, a small child had no right. "Whether or no, a nap it shall be." said Prudie in a voice that was warm but brooked no opposition. "It's not right to sleep in the day!" Ross complained. Then he said, "Sleep is tricksy! One minute you are awake, and then you are asleep! And what if you don't wake?! You think you're asleep and then PHIT! You're dead!" Ross said this earnestly, wide eyed, with a little shake of his head, trying to persuade Prudie that it was the truth of the matter. Dem laughed for it seemed a funny thing to suggest. Prudie looked perplexed. It was an incredibly odd thing for a child to say. Clearly he was mimicking something Jud had said but had gotten scrambled or back to front. Why would a boy of six suggest that one could be in peril from dying in their sleep? "Master Ross, it is time for ee to rest. Little'uns don't grow proper if they ain't got their nap and," a note of warning entered her voice, "Little'uns who don't take naps ain't gettin' no heart cakes." Ross took a little gulp, a realization he had erred. "Beg pardon, Ma'am." He blinked up at her, contrite as Dem smiled at him from the cuddly warmth of Prudie's apron. She watched the entire exchange with good humor. Prudie lay a quilt by the rose bower and the lilac tree and the children set their shoes aside and lay upon it. Satisfied that they would cease to be in her way, she began to pin the rest of the wet things on a line between the drying sheets. She thought over what Ross had said and it reminded her that she had yet to speak with Jud about the lad. There was never a good time to do so this week since he met Dem in the yard. When they were at play they needed looking after and Prudie wanted to talk of things that were better discussed out of the children's earshot. It was the fourth day of their acquaintance and the third time that the value of naps was questioned by their young guest. He took time to settle, but did sleep. Dem being asleep helped. He was not a naughty child. He didn't seek to wake her or make a nuisance to Prudie from the confines of the patchwork quilt. Confronted with the fact that the buttery, heart shaped cookies he'd admired in the kitchen would be denied to him, he lay quiet, even as his eyes were open when Prudie sought to look. Ross smiled at Prudie from the quilt and she smiled back, fondly. A truce. Ross would lay quiet and secure his tea cakes. Prudie's gentle smile towards him made Ross happy. It's a contrariness in small children that order be maintained even as boundaries are tested. There was something gratifying in Prudie's insistence that he "grow proper" and that he fit himself into the routine of Dem's home. Being made to mind meant he belonged. Belonging was a nice feeling as the sheets drifted in the soft breeze and Prudie stood at the center of the courtyard and plucked wet things from the basket, busy hands, just visible as the sheets waved gently in their places. He lay on his back and looked at the sky. He turned his head and watched Dem in repose. She slept with her lips slightly parted, lying on her side and resting her cheek on her hand. Her pinafore was dark, golden yellow and, close up, one could see tiny, light yellow flowers repeated about it. Dem was as pretty as a flower. Even her eyelashes were red and Ross found it a magical sort of thing, that even her eyelashes were pretty. He looked to the sky once more. The clouds were puffy and fat and barely moved. One had to watch carefully to see them make progress in the sky. Ross did so, still rankled that play should cease for this patchwork prison, but resigned to the matter. The day was warm, the flowers and herbs perfumed the yard. Bees crawled about the lilacs and roses but did not trouble the children. Ross decided that even bees would not dare to sting Dem in her yard. Years hence, Ross would marvel that so small a yard should seem like an entire world to him, for Dem's yard was a wondrous world, full of flowers and fun and a dear friend...

  
"Master Ross...?"

  
Ross turned on his side with a gentle murmur and slept on. Prudie left him for ten more minutes. To her mind, too long a nap was just as bad as no nap at all.

  
"Master Ross, time to wake up, pet."

  
He blinked up at her, quite suddenly, and she smiled. "Ee 'ad yer nap then?" Ross smiled, his smile held the barest embarrassment. "Yes, Prudie." "Time to have a heart cake, I reckon..." smiled Prudie. Dem sat in one of the basket chairs and waved to Ross as he sat up and they shared a happy giggle. Prudie sighed. Having had a nap, their energy level probably trebled. She'd not quibble, though. These days of play and laughter were enjoyable for them all. Ross needed help lacing his shoes and Prudie knelt down to do so, smiling into his face like a benevolent sun in a picture book and Ross came to a grudging belief that perhaps naps were not so bad.

"T'was the morbid sore throat." said Jud, quietly. That night, the children in their beds and fast asleep, Prudie sat with Jud in the garden chairs and had their chat. "They was all took bad and it seemed they'd, all three, met their reward. They d'share t'master's bed as it be safer t'keep 'em in one place an' the Mistress in a right panic over young Ross, even as she be just as ill." Jud was quiet for a time and Prudie did not press him. It was clear remembering and recounting the tale was upsetting. "They took Ross for dead an' all but when they tried to remove 'em, t'teel 'em, he rolled over an' clung to 'is mama. Ross weren't dead..." Jud looked at his hands on his lap. "It was a sorry thing. He weren't well enough to know what do go on. When 'e got betterer, 'e didn't remember bein' in bed wi' 'em dead an' gone. He thought they was away, on a trip like. It took time for 'im to understand they was dead. "Oh!" Prudie's hand went to her chest, her heart. Jud continued. "'Is mothur's people is all gone. The Poldark side be his uncle, Charles. Ross' fathur, Joshua, were the second son. Charles be the proper heir, but Ross be as gentry as ee please and'll come into Nampara and this un," Here, he gestured to the house next door with a brief flap of his hand to its direction. "The lad?!" asked Prudie, surprised. "Aye, it be held by Charles but it'll be Ross' right enough, an' the estate. It ain't grand, like Trenwith -that be Charles' side, but it be a good'un. There be a cove as well as good farmland, two mine, though they be closed. The tenants be gone now...T'ain't right fer a little'un be rattlin' round an empty 'ouse, empty village...Charles was up fer sending' 'im t'boardin' school..." "At six!" Prudie's voice raised in horror at the thought. "He'd a bin jus turnin' five then..." Jud looked to Prudie in a direct manner. "They be gentry, Ma'am. Ain't no more than Charles 'ould do fer 'is own son, Francis, save waiting' on 'im to turn ten afore sendin' 'im. Francis be two year older than Ross." "Tis a savage thing! Sending' the poor mite away like tha!" Jud nodded. "I ain't learned, not book learned, like. I d'ask Reverend Odgers if'n 'e knowed aught to save Ross leavin'. 'E said a governess be just as gentle like as school, no shame in it for a country squire...Ross be gentry, but it be small gentry, theys not like Charles..." Prudie raised an eyebrow. "'E'd show up the King 'imself in manners!" Jud smiled. "Aye, 'is mothur were a strict one, lovin', mind! Ever a mothur loved 'er son, that be the Mistress. Raised 'im right proper. Never knowed nothin' else, even knee high to a sprout!" Jud looked up at the stars in the sky. "Airs n' graces...tha be 'er name, Ross' mothur, Grace...raised 'im to be a gent and they lived like a royal family. Theys the second son's family but they'd not shame the heir, no Ma'am. It was a gentle home for our Ross..." He remembered himself and continued. "So Reverend Odgers go over an' talks Charles round to 'is way a thinkin'. Close the 'ouse an take one in a quiet village where 'e can be with other folk, other childer. The tenants moved on, weren't no one about the place anymore. The sickness was mortal bad that year. So I thinks to meself, 'Jud? Ee be caretaker, neigh on...surely lookin' after a lad be easier than lookin' after property', an' a gentle little'un like Ross don't deserve bein' all alone wi' them wicked sort a schoolboys, no family t'looks out for 'im -save Charles, who minds 'is own- Ross still 'ave nightmares sometimes. He'd not fare well in a boardin' school...Life's been that hard on the tacker..." Prudie blinked into her handkerchief as Jud continued. "So Odgers talks 'im round. E took this 'ouse here, an' Ross'll start 'is lessons next year. A proper governess who'll teach 'im book learnin' an the sort of manners a lad of 'is station do need but 'ave fresh air an' play out, be a little'un... " Prudie fanned her self with her hand, overcome by this sad tale. "I should say, I should say!" she nodded in agreement. "I's obliged to ee, Ma'am. E be right 'appy to make yer gurl's acquaintance, that an' ee open yer 'ome to 'im." Prudie smiled, wetly, and daubed her eyes. "Dem be my niece. My sister an' 'er husband be took by sickness an' all, when Dem be just a meader. Youngest of us, she was..." Prudie blushed. "I be oldest. Looked after Mam, til she passed. Never did marry. It's been me an' Dem. My other brothers be a few days ride from 'ere, but they's got their own families and I did want a child to mind...Dem be a sweet little thing. She do miss 'er parents but she don't know no different either." She paused and smiled at Jud. "We be a right pair..." she said. It was night, so the faint blush on Jud's cheeks did not show.

"Aye." said Jud.

The next day, Ross pressed his lips into a disappointed line, but did not voice complaint, when Prudie announced it was time to lie down and nap. A subtle improvement. He obediently followed Dem to the quilt and removed his shoes to set them alongside hers, off to the side. He lay on his side, facing Dem. Dem's eyes were closed and he sighed, resolved to follow, and then, quite suddenly, her eyes popped open. Ross giggled. "You're not asleep!" Dem grinned. "You aren't either!" Ross said in a grand manner, "If you aren't asleep, I shan't either!" They curled closer, eye to eye, and started to laugh. Prudie did not look up from her knitting. "To my mind, there be too much gigglin' an' not near enough sleepin'!" They giggled at this as well and Prudie wondered, idly, if she'd said that to gain that end. Their friendship was new but already dear, especially having heard the sad tale of the demise of Ross' parents. Prudie sat with a mass of red yarn as her needles clicked and fashioned twists and bobbles in fabric blooming from her quick hands. She was knitting a larger cardigan for Dem to grow into. She resolved to look in the market for a nice blue yarn. It would not be forward to knit young Ross a sweater. A thick one, to bundle him up for the colder days, for the winter weather. To keep him safe and warm like any other village child...  
If one is clever, even hands can be toys. Ross and Dem walked their fingers across the quilt as if they were little people, they touched their palms, gently, and marveled that they were quite the same size. "Once you learn Patty Cake, I'll teach you Thunder n ' Lightnin'." whispered Dem. Ross' smile widened. Dem was very patient with him and her off hand suggestion that she felt it inevitable that he learn to clap properly cheered him. She believed he could and, somehow, that meant he could, he would learn it and progress to better because she believed he could. He blinked at her happily, slowly, even as he heard her and smiled he started to drop off and Dem watched sleep overtake Ross as she might study a baby bird or stand still as a stone to watch a deer before it saw and an ran off in fright. Ross' cheek lay near her hand and she did not remove it. She felt the softness of his cheek and the soft, quiet breath warming the back of her hand, suddenly cooling before the warmth returned. Dem looked this way and that, at his nose, at his lips. A nice little face. The sort of face that told what he felt at once. One could see his feelings in his face. He hadn't quibbled over the nap today, even though she and Prudie could tell he was still unhappy to have to. And then he was happy...and then he was sleeping...

  
"Dem, Ross...time t'wake now..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Awake, Julie Andrews 1964
> 
> Stay awake don't rest your head  
> Don't lie down upon your bed  
> While the moon drifts in the skies  
> Stay awake don't close your eyes  
> Though the world is fast asleep  
> Though your pillow soft and deep  
> You're not sleepy as you seem  
> Stay awake, don't nod and dream  
> Stay awake, don't nod and dream
> 
> "t'teel 'em": prepare for burial
> 
> meader: baby mouse


	3. Beautiful Boy(Darling Boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans

Ross rested his chin in his hands, kneeling on the seat of a chair, tapping the tips of his boots in an irregular rhythm. His elbows were propped up on the kitchen table as he surveyed a landscape of apple peels and cores, tidied into a wooden bowl, two broken eggshells teetering on top of them like little boats, and watched Jud place apple slices in a shallow pudding basin. "How many apples, Jud?" asked Ross. Jud did not look up from his work. "Be one fer each an' one fer tha basin..." Jud turned to smile at Ross and then frowned to see Ross' tongue protruding and poking within his mouth. "An' no teeth! Ee needs t'stop worryin' tha loose tooth or we'll be servin' it to Prudie in 'er puddin'!" Ross laughed the hearty laugh of small children struck by an absurdity and Jud rolled his eyes with a grudging smirk. "Ee can laughs all ee want but ee can't be menacing the vittles wi' tha tooth! It's as like to come flyin' out like a blatherin' cannon ball!" Ross scrunched his eyes from his mirth. He looked enough like his father, Joshua, to give Jud pause. Jud smiled. "Ee mind tha tooth! If'n we feed 'em a tooth it'll be a right disgrace!" Ross giggled and said, "Yes, Jud!" and closed his mouth firm. They nodded their heads in agreement that all was fitty. Jud scraped the cake batter over the apples with a spoon and allowed Ross to have a taste by swirling his finger down the side of the emptied bowl. He set the dish in the oven. Jud helped Ross wash his hands and then Ross sat in the front room with an assortment of toy soldiers, with their ancient cat, Tabitha Bethia, sleeping near by, and waited for Prudie and Dem to call.

In a short while, the warm scent of baking cake filled the kitchen and Jud checked on it to see that all was well. It still needed a bit more time in the oven. It was cheering to need the larger baking dish. Their meals were made for two, ordinarily. Jud was careful and abhorred waste. 'No more, no less and use up the rest' was his maxim. It was an odd situation, perhaps, looking after a youngster. Jud took the task seriously. Ross did not want for attention, nourishing food and loving care, for all it be provided by a somewhat gruff, old caretaker. What education was lacking would be provided by a governess upon Ross turning seven. From that perspective, this small household lacked little. Now that Ross had a firm friend who lived next door, one could argue it now lacked for nothing at all. Jud asked Prudie and Dem to dine of a Saturday. It was quickly agreed to, for right that upcoming Saturday. There was no added flourish to the weekend meal, simply more of it all. A piping hot, lentil soup, spinach moistened in cream, veal cutlets in gravy, bread from the baker and Eve's Pudding, the heavenly smelling sugared apples, dusted in mixed spice, baked underneath cake batter that Jud took out of the oven to cool. Jud wished to reciprocate the warm welcome given to them by their neighbors. Ross and Dem's laughter and play carried over into the yard as he worked out of doors. Ross spoke of imaginative games and treats in the afternoon when Prudie would have tea and give the children milk. Ross had gotten through this week with only one nightmare as well. Ross was happy. Ross' high spirits and unabashed laughter these past few weeks cheered Jud. Ross was so often a melancholy little boy. His gait and manner these days were that of the six year old he should be, so long denied to him by circumstance. At Nampara it was just the two of them at the last. Sickness had been so severe at Nampara and the surrounding village all the survivors moved elsewhere and Ross' closest relative was wary of having the child come to stay at his nearby home, Trenwith. Jud was charged with a solemn responsibility and would see it through. Grace Poldark, in the throes of her own illness, asked that Jud keep watch and look after her 'darling boy'. That was over and above the inevitable hand of Ross' uncle, Charles. Charles was not a hard man but his status and lifestyle was more grand than the Nampara side. He would discharge his responsibility to his nephew in the manner of the true, landowning class, not the step below, gentry, where his second born brother, Joshua, and his family were firmly placed. They were content in their gentry life. Jud learned to prepare this dessert from Mistress Grace herself. He was welcome to watch as she instructed the kitchen maid and learned many of her dishes that way, when life was good and fate had yet to visit misfortune on Nampara and the surrounding environs. Grace was as gentle born as a queen and treated all with the same warm regard, be they high folk or low, and always garnered respect and affection from her servants and tenants. She was, like her name, grace itself. Jud assured her he would personally look out for the lad. He worked with determination to fulfill his promise once Joshua, Grace and most of the household servants died. Even the little kitchen maid passed away...

Charles, leery of infection, would not have Ross brought to Trenwith. Charles was also stymied by the severity of the illness in and around Nampara to hire Ross a nurse. The few left in the area were afraid to go there. Jud looked after Ross himself. They were a pair. Weakened by illness and coming to terms with being orphaned, Ross was still capable of a sweet smile. Jud made a point of coaxing a smile and, sometimes, even a laugh once a day. A child grappling with grief and magical thinking -thinking that his parents were just away, that all he would have to do was wait for their return- needed any reprieve from sadness he could get. At night, before he put the child to bed, Jud would sit Ross on his knee, by the fire, well wrapped in a warm, thick blanket and a cloth bonnet to keep his head warm. Jud would tell Ross wonderful stories. Jud was not a well read man. He managed enough literacy for a caretaker of a gentry farmstead. Jud's storytelling stemmed from the oral traditions of the area. Jud knew how to turn the cardboard and tinsel of travelling players from decades of Sawle feasts, Michaelmas fairs, Easter week, harvests and summers into silver and gold. Tatty, thrice mended costumes turned into jewel laden, silken garments in Jud's tales of knights and dragons, fair damsels and evil villains, of kings and queens. Of fairies and wizards and witches. Jud pleased Ross with fanciful tales to stave off nightmares for a few hours when he was put to bed. Jud comforted Ross during the night. Dried his tears and sat, quiet, by his bedside until he slept once more. Jud took Ross walking when the boy recovered. Strengthened Ross by walking in the woods, getting air in his lungs and bringing him all about after his convalesance. Jud pointed out which mushrooms were good to eat and which were to be avoided. Explained that the sun was at its highest height and therefore noon. They watched animals and birds and Jud would tell of how they lived, or built their nests. The ways animals conducted themselves and other lore. He sat Ross next to him when he would fish for their supper. Jud would tell Ross some of the old folk wisdom, even though much of it was over Ross' head, being so young. It was calming to the boy and that was more important than retaining the information. Jud told Ross about 'tickling trout', hypnotizing the fish to be sedate enough to capture and promised to teach Ross when he was older. Ross was small and quiet. Sometimes his eyes were clouded and listless, unseeing. Sometimes they were bright with interest in the world around them. Sometimes Ross' eyes were deeply sad and sometimes they gleamed a gentle gratitude. Ross had a friend who, fed him, tended him, told him stories, soothed him when he woke from his frightening dreams, showed him the big, wide world and spoke to him like he was grown-up and little at the same time. Ross had a friend named Jud and he was grateful. Jud had a friend in his young charge as well and they lived, happily and well, as Jud kept his promise to Mistress Grace as best he could. Ross' jollity now made Jud feel like he had kept his promise in truth. Ross had blossomed into a chipper little fellow, much like Master Joshua, rest his soul... Joshua had been a high strung lad, lighthearted boy, full of talk and fun. If Ross could have his birthright, a temperament as his father had, having lost both parents, it would be a fine thing. To see true happiness in their darling boy...

Dinner came off wonderfully well and Prudie and Dem lauded Jud for a tasty meal. There was a pitcher of cream to sauce the Eve's Pudding and every bite was spooned up with enjoyment by all four. Jud and Prudie sat in the parlor and spoke of grown up things as Ross and Dem marched the little tin soldiers about the carpet. At length, the ladies took their leave, with a promise of Sunday lunch, for them all, at Prudie's house. They had not known it, as they made their way back to their own door, but an established pattern was born this night -to sup with Ross on Saturday and sup with Dem on Sunday.

Guests gone and the kitchen put to rights, Ross was given a bath. It was a full bath rather than being cleaned at the wash stand. Sufficiently scrubbed and rinsed, he stepped into the waiting towel that Jud provided, talking a mile a minute about the battle Dem's soldiers had fought against his own. While recounting this well matched battle, they heard Ross' tooth fall to the floor like dice on a gaming table. They searched and found it some feet away. "Well, ee made a success o tha, I reckon!" Jud peered into Ross' mouth." I d'see the tip o tha new'un down thur..." Ross grinned. Jud mixed some salt in a cup of warm water and bade Ross swish it around in his mouth and spit it back into the cup, to be discarded. After this, Ross ran about the hall in his nightshirt, with the little thud of his bare feet against the floorboards in a hyper victory dance. "I have a new tooth! I have a new tooth!" he crowed. Jud looked at this display with good humor, but it was time for bed. He herded Ross into bed with a gentle smile. "Right t'bed wi' ee, Master Ross..." Ross climbed into bed and Jud tucked him in. "Goodnight, Jud!" smiled Ross. Jud turned out the lamp. Ross saw Jud's silhouette in the door as he said, "Goodnight, Master Ross. See ee in the morn..." At this, Ross snuggled down in his bedclothes and closed his eyes. He heard the comforting sound of Jud's footfall, elsewhere in the house. Ross knew he was safe and even if his dreams upset him, his trusted friend was nearby.

Jud looked at the little milk tooth, turing it about in his fingers. The old'uns used to say if a witch got a hold of one of your teeth, she would have absolute power over you. All kinds of strange superstitions about teeth... Jud was leery of discarding it, but what would one need it for anymore? After considering it, he put the tooth in a disused snuffbox, one that had been Joshua's, and set it on the mantel of the fireplace. It became the repository and reliquary for Ross' milk teeth. Tiny proofs that the lad was growing and thriving and Jud's ongoing promise kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful Boy(Darling Boy) John Lennon, 1980
> 
> Close your eyes  
> Have no fear  
> The monster's gone  
> He's on the run and your daddy's here  
> Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
> Beautiful boy  
> Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
> Beautiful boy  
> Before you go to sleep  
> Say a little prayer  
> Every day in every way, it's getting better and better  
> Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
> Beautiful boy  
> Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
> Beautiful boy  
> Out on the ocean sailing away  
> I can hardly wait  
> To see you come of age  
> But I guess we'll both just have to be patient  
> 'Cause it's a long way to go  
> A hard row to hoe  
> Yes, it's a long way to go  
> But in the meantime  
> Before you cross the street  
> Take my hand  
> Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans  
> Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
> Beautiful boy  
> Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
> Beautiful boy  
> Before you go to sleep  
> Say a little prayer  
> Every day in every way, it's getting better and better  
> Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful  
> Beautiful boy  
> Darling, darling, darling  
> Darling Sean  
> Goodnight Sean  
> See you in the morning  
> Right to bed


	4. Song From The Edge Of The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diving for pearls

Prudie held her marketing basket over one arm. Dem held her left hand and Ross trotted along on her right, holding a corner of her apron. The children would lean forward, occasionally, to look at one another around Prudie's skirts. They were each cheered by the novelty of having a friend to walk with. Prudie also felt a contentment in having Ross along with her as she ran her errands. She would buy wool to knit Ross a sweater as well as her regular shopping for provisions and Ross was excited to chose the color. They made their way, from Prudie's house, past the other lanes to the high street where the shops were. Prudie nodded greetings to others as they did so and introduced her young neighbor those who asked. Ross' high sense of manners amused them for he bowed politely, and his smile was shy and very cute. Unlike the weekend and feast day markets that set up temporary stalls on ground nearby, these were the proper stores that remained, rain or shine, and provided the bulk of commerce in the community. A bell gave a merry little jingle as they entered the shop that sold cloth, wool and notions. The owner greeted her customers and at once spoke of the merits of this wool or that. Prudie wanted to knit Ross a very thick, warm sweater and the two women considered the shop's wares in great seriousness. Ross chose a very nice mixed color of a bright, marine blue mixed with a sage green and a dark navy. Prudie bought enough for a sweater and a scarf too. Ross and Dem joined a group of children who stood and sat around an old sailor who told wondrous stories of his time at sea as Prudie shopped for vegetables nearby. He spoke of foreign lands and customs in a romantic, wistful way.

"I wish I was a man!" said Dem, dreamily. "I'd sail to all those countries!" Ross turned to smile at her as she imagined being a boy, and he imagined her as she was, an energetic girl, wind blowing her pretty red hair as she scanned the distant shores, steering the large wheel, sailing her ship to foreign lands. "To the Americas?!" asked Ross, excited by the idea. Dem looked off dreamily, amusing the old sailor as well. "Oh! I'd go even further, to the Indies, to Africa! I'd go as far as I could," She blinked in a sudden thought. "Though, I'd be afraid of going too far and falling off the edge!" The other children, Ross included, gave a solemn nod of agreement. It would be a grave thing to fall off the edge of the world. The sailor laughed a joyous laugh. "The world is round, child!" He smiled warmly at Dem. She knit her brow. "But how do they know? Nobody's ever seen it round!" In good natured manner he explained, "Many a ship has sailed, and not a one has fallen off the edge!" Dem narrowed her eyes in sudden wisdom. "Ah! But if the sailors did fall off the edge they'd be gone and not be able to tell anyone!" Ross smiled. Dem argued her position, with a proper grown up, like a lawyer. "No one's ever seen an edge!" laughed the sailor. Dem was thoughtful again. "Mayhaps some have gotten very near and didn't know it! Surrounded by mist and fog, I reckon..." They all enjoyed considering the idea of the trailing edge of a mysterious sea as the sailor chuckled. Prudie walked up behind her charges and said, quietly, "Dem? Master Ross? Come along now, be time to get back. We'll beat the rain near enough!" They all scanned the sky. The clouds were dark in the distance. She leaned forward and put a coin in the sailor's cup. "Bless ee, sir..." He nodded his gratitude. Ross and Dem walked, hand in hand, ahead of Prudie, as her shopping took up her basket and they returned to Dem's house just as plump, fat raindrops started to pelt their heads and plunk upon the ground, plonk against the window panes. Prudie built up the fire and sat with Garrick at her feet, in her favorite chair, after putting the wares away. Ross, now resigned to the afternoon nap, curled next to Dem on a quilt laid by the hearth. From this vantage point, Ross admired the wool sitting atop Prudie's workbasket. Prudie would make him a warm jumper out of the yarn he chose. It made him happy. It was just for him and would be much like the ones she knitted for Dem. The wicker wove in and out. You could follow the strands with one's eye, if you were diligent...they flowed, one to the other, and they held Prudie's knitting. How long must it take to make a basket...?  
"Ross?" Dem was tempted to poke his nose. At the point where she might have Prudie said, "Dem! Don't be pokin' an' proddin' 'im! Leave 'im be!" Prudie smiled. "I'll wake 'im soon..."  
Prudie woke Ross and, since outdoor play was not possible on this, dark, rainy afternoon, bade them play by the hearth while she tidied the house and kitchen. Ross and Dem lay on the floor, stretching aimlessly, rolling about lazily, talking of some of the things the sailor told the children. "It would be nice to dive for pearls..." Ross said. The sailor spoke of the Far East and young divers, quick and trailing long, dark ,fine hair, like merfolk, who swam in naught but a loincloth with a knife between their teeth, to unencumber their hands as they swam. They explored the warm waters and collected oysters, bringing them to a waiting boat and then, pried them open with their knives, revealing huge, pearls, glowing gold and moonglow white. Priceless jewels for fine ladies to dress their hair and drape about their necks and wrists. Dem pointed her toe, clad in blue knitted tights in a lazy manner. Ross, whose stockings were grey, tapped the tips of his feet together. They craned their necks along the floor and realized they could touch the tips of each other's toes if Ross stretched the other way. They did so. Poking each other's foot as they tried to decide what to do on a rainy afternoon. Garrick watched them in good humor. Small humans were very charming. "We could dive for pearls..." said Dem. "How?!" Ross asked, very much wanting to. "If the floor was the ocean, and the quilt was our boat, we could find as many oysters as we like!" said Dem. Ross waggled his legs as if he swam. He lifted a foot in the air and surveyed it, turning it this way and that, thinking. "We'd need knives..." said Ross. Dem stretched again and touched the tip of Ross' foot once more. They must have knives. The sailor said so... They must get up and do something or the sound of the raindrops might put them back to sleep... "I know!" said Dem, "Help move the chair!" They got up, and with a fair bit of struggle, pushed a wooden side chair closer to a cabinet in the room. Ross stood, still clutching the back of it as Dem climbed up on it to open a drawer. At the point Ross was about to ask, Dem turned to him suddenly. "What are you...?, OH!" Ross found himself staring down the silver blade of a butter knife that Dem intended to show Ross for his approval. He looked at it, cross eyed, for the point of it was quite near his nose. She might well have said "Stand and deliver!" Instead, she asked, earnestly, "Will this do?" She smiled down at him from her perch on the seat. Ross cleared his throat with a little squeak. "Um, yes. That will do nicely...".

In the calm, warm seas of the Far East, two intrepid pearl divers stalked their quary. A lithe, pretty, mermaid of a girl, red hair swirling about her. A handsome, proud youth, dark haired and quick, who dove and swam as fast as a minnow. The oysters were thick about the place! Glimmering among colorful fish and swaying plants of the sea. Merchildren swam to accompany their minders on their errands. They would wave and Ross and Dem could wave back to them and each other because they held their knives in their mouth like proper pearl divers...

Prudie returned to find Ross and Dem crawling about the floor on all fours. Hearing her approach, they both turned to look at her, lifting their chins to reveal the fact that they each had a butter knife in their mouth, like a dog carrying a bone. "Wha ee be doin'...?" Prudie began, astonished and confused. Dem smiled. "We, OH!" Having spoken, the knife fell out of her mouth and clattered to the floor. She began again. "We are diving for pearls!" said Dem, excitedly. "We have enough to make you a necklace!" Ross, still clenching his knife between his teeth, nodded earnestly in agreement, set back on his heels, smiling. "Is tha a fact...?" asked Prudie with a chuckle. "Yes!" said Dem, "Once we get them out of their shells!" Ross and Dem were eager to resume. "I'll leave ee to it, then..." said Prudie with an incredulous shake of her head. Ross and Dem came into the kitchen and Dem tugged on Prudie's apron. To her left, the children smiled up at her, happily. "You can have your necklace now!" said Dem. With great ceremony, Ross lifted an invisible strand of pearls for Prudie's inspection. She smiled at them. "My word! Ain't never seen such lovely pearls! An' ee got 'em all by yerselves?" They nodded yes, proudly. Such fine jewelry demanded a mirror. Prudie and Dem, pulling Ross along by the hand, went upstairs and Prudie sat at her dressing table. Ross looked about the room with interest. Prudie had many of the same effects that his late mother had, but they were the cozy, modest sort that so fit Prudie and Dem's home. Unvarnished wood rather than the fine furniture at Nampara. Warm, colorful quilts on her bed rather than intricate matelasse coverings, a comb, brush and hand mirror that all matched but was prettily carved wood rather than silver. Ross had no sense of snobbery in this. It was a fascination, really. Everything in Dem's house was lovely and inviting and it cheered him. Prudie, flanked by her pearl divers, allowed Ross to carefully clasp the pearl necklace around her neck. She admired it in her hand mirror. She lowered it so Ross and Dem could see too and they admired it and their reflection, all three, cheek to cheek, in the mirror. Prudie spoke to their reflections. "Thank ee! This is the nicest necklace I ever 'ad!" They smiled into the mirror. Dem hugged her neck and kissed her cheek and Prudie touched a gentle hand to Ross' head, sharing a fond look with him, in the reflection as well as to the side. "It's far too fine fer chores. I'll keep it in m'jewel box..." Prudie reached for a painted box to her left. Ross just made out the two birds, painted within a surrounding rococo frame as she opened it. There was a glittering assortment of paste jewel brooches and Prudie's actual pearls, a modest strand that had been her mothers. Prudie looked at the dark dreary weather. She changed her mind. "Ee know wha I reckon?" she asked. "What?" asked the children. "I reckon I'll keep these nice pearls on and ee should have a brooch an' we'll dress for tea! Wha d'ee think a tha?" They both thought it a wonderful idea. Prudie pinned a green glass jewel, set in a wreath on Dem's dress and a circlet of sliver flowers with centers of purple diamantes on Ross' shirt. They went back downstairs and had an elegant tea, with cake and milk and good company as the dark, afternoon rain pattered upon the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song From The Edge Of The World, Siouxsie and the Banshees  
> 1986
> 
> Let me take you down  
> To testify  
> Under the brow of a sparkling sky  
> We'll dance away  
> A distant day  
> And shout our sins  
> In a passion play  
> Over we go  
> Diving for pearls  
> Over we go  
> From the edge of the world  
> Let the fire fall in  
> The footsteps we leave  
> Painted on the ground  
> We'll watch the stars  
> Come crashing down  
> Upon our heads  
> Like a madding crown  
> Let me take you down  
> To testify  
> Under the brow of a sparkling sky  
> We'll dance away  
> 'Til the day is done  
> Then rise again  
> To unwrap the sun  
> Over we go  
> Diving for pearls  
> Over we go  
> From the edge of the world  
> This is the song from the edge of the world


	5. It's A Beautiful Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little'uns

Garrick lifted his head in interest for there was a knock at the door. Prudie opened it to find Jud Paynter and his young charge, Ross. The older man standing very still and Ross bouncing on his heels in a cheerful fidget, holding Jud's hand, next to him. Dem came around Prudie's skirts and Ross and Dem grinned happily from the pleasant experience of greeting someone the same size as themselves. "Mornin' ma'am, I was..." began Jud. "Dem!" said Ross, excitedly. "We have chickens! Do you want to see the chickens?" Dem leaned on the doorjamb with a bright smile. "Yes!" she looked up to ask Prudie, "Can we see the chickens, Prudie, please?" The adults, having had the conversation wrested out of their hands, smiled a good natured defeat. "They be two weeks now an' can take a bit o handlin'," said Jud. Prudie nodded. "Aye, tha would be right nice, Dem, put yer shoes on luv... "Dem procured her buckle shoes and Prudie watched Dem and Ross trotting down the walk towards next door. Jud extended his elbow, to escort Prudie as she turned from closing the door. She blinked a subtle 'Well met...' as she said, "Thank ee, sir." and they followed behind the children.

The Widow Chegwidden had a long purse. When Ross' uncle procured a home on his nephew's behalf, he purchased the property of the late lady. The house was the last of the lane, slightly larger than its fellows and had a great deal of adjoining land. An apple orchard and a wide stretch of quiet meadow were Ross' now, held by his uncle until he was of age. She had been the oldest resident and the village spilled forth from the site of her property. After her death it lay vacant for some time. In recent months, workmen had arrived to repair and ready the house for a new occupant. A new water pump, wrought iron and quite fancy, replaced the old. The windows were replaced. Fresh paint brightened the outside. A new fence and a chicken coop, that should not shame a human occupant, appeared on the outlying meadow adjacent to the back of the house. Gone over, top to bottom, in infinite care and giving the villagers a mystery to ponder. Who has taken over the widow's house? After a time, the workers left and the house lay empty. Then furnishings and households goods appeared. The workers who ferried these handsome, expensive objects -finely built furniture, glass inset windows in elegant cabinets, upholstered chairs, cloth draped things that hinted of fine mirrors and paintings- were hired by a gentleman by the name of Poldark. No such name was known in the village. A new squire, whispered the villagers. Someone who might rule over them and take the orchard back. The villagers had gleaned the orchard, from time back, even when the good widow had lived. Then, the house lay dormant once more, no fine gent surveying his property, no grand mistress tending to her brood -a carved rocking horse of exceptional quality was seen among the household effects. Nothing, until a small boy was spied crying in the next door neighbor's yard... Ross skipped ahead of Dem, and Jud smiled to see it. Ross was excited to show his new friend their chicks and excited to be allowed to hold them after pestering Jud mercilessly to do so. Prudie said, in an undertone, "They's fast friends since ee arrived, Master Paynter..." watching Dem follow in the energetic hop of her quickening gait. They stood at Ross' door, impatient to enter. Dem's dress was red with tiny golden yellow flowers printed on it and her tights were dark blue. Ross' breeches were buff brown with pale grey stockings, black ankle boots and his shirt was as white as any of the others Prudie had seen him in. Clothes of a high quality. Jud opened the door and bade the ladies enter, the first villagers to do so. Upon entering, the first thing one smelled was fine waxed wood, a sharp scent of varnish, not unpleasant. Light blue, damask covered arm chairs, wood side chairs with intricately carved backs and a length of the parlor wall taken up with glass front cabinets, full of books, of strange things like chunks of glittering ore samples, a pair of wooden dolls, a man and woman, dressed for court with real, brunette, human hair peered out at Prudie and Dem from the closest cabinet. Ross came alongside Dem. "That's Mama and Papa!" Dem looked closer, pressed her nose on the glass. "Dem! Mind yer manners! Leave go tha glass!" Jud smiled, "Nay, ma'am. She ain't doin' no 'arm..." Prudie smiled assent, but was still ill at ease. This home was almost too fine to sit in, compared to her own and others here abouts. Prudie also stepped forward to admire the dolls. They were dressed at the height of fashion and even the little, dark purple, frock coat and vest on the man... the boy's father...? was embroidered in the high style of a monied family. The woman wore a hooped dress, with an overskirt and bodice of lilac purple, split like a letter 'a' to complement the apple green underskirt beneath. Little carved feet, painted to look like shoes and white stockings peeked out at the bottom of the dress. The man wore black, silk taffeta, knee breeches with, tiny, real silver buckles placed on his shoes and the woman's hair was dressed with the tiny strands of a peacock's feather, still iridescent and bright colored, showing the portion had been snipped from the "eye" of the feather. The 'mother' had a black silk thread holding a tiny seed pearl, clearly not glass, tied around it's neck as a necklace. Prudie closed her mouth as she realized she was staring as wide eyed as Dem. These little dolls with their, painted smiles and quiet, loving eyes were wearing clothes more expensive than even the old widow wore... Ross looked at them fondly. "They are a present from Uncle Charles!" Prudie turned to Jud in astonishment and he offered a sympathetic, wry smile. 'The rich be not like the rest o us...' He might have said. Ross tapped on Dem's shoulder. "The chicks are behind the house!" He pulled her by the hand, as Dem followed, still dazzled by the wooden dolls and Jud chuckled. "If I may..." He offered his arm again and escorted Prudie through the house and out the kitchen door. She only just registered the well appointed kitchen as they came out into the back out the house. To the right, if one chose, you could go down the side of the house, along a fence and gate that lay along Prudie's yard and how Ross was able to enter. Prudie only then realized her house had been the caretaker's home for the widow's property. That explained why her courtyard was obscured from the street and why a gate faced her property from next door.

Ross and Dem ran ahead to a very grand chicken coop, protected on two sides by an enclosed fence. The fence of the other side of their property might still be breached by a determined fox but it was well designed, to be sure. "Ee 'ave 'em well back...?" said Prudie. "Aye," chuckled Jud, "Right messy beasts they be..." Ross and Dem sat on the grass, looking into a box that might, at one time, have been a cucumber frame but held a jostling sextet of yellow chicks, one of their number sleeping the sleep of the just and the rest ambling about in play, not so different to humans. Two of them pecked, eagerly, at a dandelion head in the grass. And the others peeped and wandered about, exploring the confines of this grassy little world. "Ohhhhhh!" sighed Dem. "Aren't they dear?!" Ross seemed to leap up and down, even as he sat. "Jud will let us hold them!" Jud smiled. "Aye, but ee be too fidgety, lad. Ee wants t'sit quiet like, not be upsettin' the little'uns..." Prudie chuckled. Jud was as careful and affectionate with this child as he was with the chicks. Jud knelt between the children and smiled at Dem. "Well, m'lady, would ee likes t'hold a chickie?" Dem grinned, smiled into Jud's eyes. "Yes, please!" He lifted out a chick, with both hands, and let Dem hold it. "Ee gots to use both yer 'ands an' be gentle like, they don't want t'feel 'fraid. Keep 'em close..." Dem smiled at the little bird. It looked at her and peeped an excitable account of the day so far and was soft and fluffy and darling. Ross watched her hold the chick, cooing and fawning over the bird. She was careful to hold it lightly but gave it the security of sitting in her palm all the while, framed at both sides by the sleeves of her shift. She liked to stroke its fuzzy, soft feathers, so fine it might have been fur. She smiled at Ross, who smiled at her, and blinked happily at being able to please his new friend. She extended her arms to let Ross stroke the chick's head with his finger and they giggled over it turning to 'talk' a mile a minute to Ross. "They be good chicks, Master Paynter..." said Prudie, impressed by the health and vigor of the little chickens. "Aye, 'spect good layin' from 'em." He looked up at her, sitting among the children. He had a kind face. "Mayhaps we'd 'ave more eggs than we could use...would ee care t'ave some eggs of a now an' again, Mistress Lyon?" She smiled. "Do call me Prudie..." He tugged his cap towards her. "Ee do me 'onor ma'am..." They exchanged a sphinx like smile. "Aye. We'd be much obliged if'n there be eggs t'spare..." Jud handed a chick to Ross and he stroked the bird's head gently, with his forefinger, as it peeped it's 'Good day!' to him. Dem leaned over to admire it too and Jud stood so they might look at it together. "Keep 'old, Master Ross, keep it safe..." Ross looked up and nodded in seriousness. Prudie crinkled her eyes in good humor at the little boy. He was a sensitive mite, for all his occasional, excitable bluster. A sweet little fellow. Not at all spoiled by his wealthy surroundings. The uncle seemed to spend money like chaff but all to Ross' benefit, the income from the orchard alone would bring good income to the lad, let alone the uncle's long purse...

Jud produced a wooden bench, and asked Prudie to sit. He went into the house, to wash his hands and bring out two glasses of raspberry cordial, and they sat in the fine morning sun, entertained by the children's happy pastime, sipping at their drinks and talking of themselves in general terms. The pleasant companionship of two who might care to know each other better... The chicks ran about and scratched and pecked. They ran around in a little herd and and wandered away from each other too. The sleepy head woke up and Jud allowed Ross to lift it out. Dem fancied this chick to be more like Ross. Quiet and sweet, holding back among the others, but no less cute. Shy but wanting to join in, wanting to be a friend. Ross snuggled the little bird and then spoke to it, telling it that the chickens would be safe and well because Jud was clever and they would look after them. Dem watched Ross talking to the chick, like it might understand what he was saying, the forelock of his hair obscuring one eye, the bright yellow chick against his snowy white shirt. He looked to her, one eye veiled with hair, smiling a happy, friendly smile.

"Want to hold it?" asked Ross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's A Beautiful Morning, The Rascals 1968
> 
> It's a beautiful mornin', ah  
> I think I'll go outside a while  
> And just smile  
> Just take in some clean fresh air, boy!  
> Ain't no sense in stayin' inside  
> If the weather's fine, and you got the time  
> It's your chance to wake up and plan another brand new day  
> Either way  
> It's a beautiful mornin', ah  
> Each bird keeps singin' his own song  
> So long!  
> I've got to be on my way now  
> Ain't no fun just hangin' around  
> I've got to cover ground; you couldn't keep me down  
> It just ain't no good if the sun shines  
> When you're still inside  
> Shouldn't hide, still inside, shouldn't hide  
> Ah, oh! (Shouldn't hide) Ah, ah, oh
> 
> (Doo, doo-wa) (Doo, doo-wa)
> 
> There will be children with robins and flowers  
> Sunshine caresses each new waking hour  
> Seems to me that the people keep seeing  
> More and more each day; gotta say, lead the way  
> It's okay, Wednesday, Thursday, it's okay  
> (Ah) Monday, Wednesday, Friday, weekday, ah, ah, oh
> 
> (Doo, doo-wa)
> 
> Ah, ah, oh, oh (do, doo-wa)  
> Woo, ooo, ooo, oh, oh, oh, ah, woo, doo-wa  
> Oh, oh, oh, oh
> 
> "Old Pretender" 18th century, wooden, dolls were ornaments for wealthy people to display, not to be played with. The clothes were fastened to the bodies permanently, they could not be undressed. The carved faces were somewhat primitive looking -they did not strive for the realism of bisque or porcelain head dolls- they had a lot of personality, though.


	6. Ornaments Of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jewel laden

Clear, pretty weather meant games and pastimes in Prudie's potted garden in the yard. Rain meant indoor pursuits. It was on such days that Prudie allowed the children to explore her button box and if they blinked adoringly enough at their request, were allowed to look in her jewel box. Prudie removed what few pieces of value lay there and Ross and Dem let hours pass, on Prudie's bed, staring at the pretty bracelets and fanciful pins, brooches and thinking about what adventures might spring forth from their designs. Ross was always fascinated by the quilts in Dem's house. They were blankets but they were made entirely of little scraps of fabric, all different colors and patterns. In truth none of the fabric matched and should have been a right horror. But there was a rightness to it. The disorder ceased because they were sewn together with their fellows and became all one covering. In autumn's chill, in winter's cold, Prudie would take cut bits of clothes Dem had outgrown as well as clothes too worn in places to be decent and bits and pieces from her rag bag of calico and printed stuffs and sew the haphazard tops. When they were large enough she sandwiched a layer of padding between it and a plain sheet from the market and stitched them together so the top and bottom held the stuffing in place. Being allowed to sit on Prudie's bed always made Ross happy. The colors were cheering and the spill of beads and buttons and jewelry were beautiful to see among the different flowers and dots and patterns. One could stare forever, never bored, and it defied the grey days and made them more fun.

  
Prudie, ever able to provide interesting things to do, lay the ends of cotton string she had cut into long lengths from her sewing box in hot candle wax. When the wax solidified, the string became taut and hard on their ends. She sat with Ross and Dem on her bed and showed them how to string the buttons with it. The waxed end was like a needle and could be put through the buttons without fraying. They thought this very clever. Satisfied they would be entertained a bit of a while, Prudie left them to continue her indoor chores downstairs.  
"This one is glass, so it should be in the middle, cause it's the prettiest!" said Dem, sagely. She thread string through and they both admired it sliding down, winking its cut facet edges.  
"I should put plain ones next to it!" said Ross, enjoying drifting his fingers through the many buttons, their smooth forms giving a satisfying resistance as they clattered against each other. "A pirate might try to pillage it!" Ross enjoyed the word 'pillage' Jud often said it and it had more flair than just 'stealing'. "I would crown him!" said Dem, sorting out as many green buttons as she could find in the box and laying them on the bed. "I would hit the villain, on the head, with my boot and make him apologize!" Ross looked at her sharply. He had little doubt she would. Dem always seem able to be bold in a way Ross admired. It was close to envy for Ross was not as free in himself to consider being so bold. Life had disappointed him so early he found it a little frightening to assert one's self. "I expect he would!" said Ross, "He would say he was sorry and beg your pardon." Ross thought a little more. "Maybe he would give you some of his treasure!" "Oh!" sighed Dem. "Maybe he'd let me have lots of jewelry! Then we could dress up!" Ross smiled as he pushed another button on his end of the string. "I'd like that! We could be like Ali Baba and have lots and lots of necklaces and things." Ross thought some more. "And we could listen to people play music! And have syllabubs!" Dem let the buttons fall through her fingers. "Oh! That would be lovely..." Dem sat up suddenly. The button box threatened to tip, but did not. "Let's make lots of necklaces! Prudie made blancmange, that's kind of like syllabub!" Ross agreed that this was a good idea. In time they clanked and rattled with many buttons, hung round their necks on strings. They admired each other. Much like the quilt tops, the disorder and eccentricity of the mismatched buttons hung together by dint of the sheer magnitude of so many, piled about.

Prudie could hear them tromp downstairs, the bizarre, out of step march of small, stockinged feet, and assumed they went into the parlor. It went quiet. At the point when Prudie looked to round them up for a nap, they had vanished. She did not hear them go back upstairs. She looked on her bed. They were not there. The button box sat there, all lonesome. They were not in the parlor. They were not in the kitchen. Prudie looked in the yard. It was still raining. They were not in the yard. She could not find them. Dem's room was as empty as hers. She looked under her bed. No. She went back downstairs in utter confusion. She went back to the parlor. "'Ere? Garrick? Where be Dem?" Garrick who, in truth, was an intelligent animal, got up and walked across the room to the table in the far corner by the wooden dresser that held much of their cutlery and plate and sat back down. Prudie drew closer to see a grey clad foot lying outside the bottom of the tablecloth. "Good boy, Garrick!" whispered Prudie. She lifted the cloth to find her charges had succumbed to their nap of their own accord. Dem and Ross had crawled under the table. Dem, propped up at the place where the corner of the room met, mouth open in the strange, purring snore of small children. Ross lying asleep on his back in much the same state. Prudie's painted jewel box lay open on Dem's lap. Prudie lay one corner of the cloth up on the table so they could have more air and let them be. When it was time to wake, she returned. Prudie was amused to see they had not moved.

"Dem? Master Ross? Be time t'wake now..."

Groggy and clattering with strands of buttons everywhere, the children woke. Once they had their bearings they scampered out from under the table, telling Prudie of a marvelous adventure.

"We went into Aladdin's cave!" said Ross.

"We got wishes from a jinn! He let us fly on a carpet and gave us jewels!" said Dem.

"Did e now...?" asked Prudie, straightening Dem's smock.

"Yes! But we had to use your jewels too!" said Dem.

"O'course..." chuckled Prudie.

Dem cajoled Prudie into allowing Ross and Dem some of the blancmange Prudie had intended for the weekend. It was only fitting for richly attired personages such as themselves. Prudie had to admit the grey day was made better by enjoying a nice dish of pink blancmange with her regal companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ornaments Of Gold, Siouxsie And The Banshees 1988
> 
> Silver couches to recline upon  
> And ornaments of gold  
> Silver moonbeams dance in fountains  
> Below shining citadels  
> Surrounded by silver gates ascending silver stairs  
> Eureka on angelic prayer wafts in and scents the air  
> With ornaments of gold  
> To warm my soul from the growing cold  
> Ornaments of gold  
> We can drink from silver vessels  
> We can feed from silver bowls  
> Then I'll give you gilded treasures  
> Anointed by intoxicating oils  
> Drenched in riches unimaginable  
> Your splendor drips with jewels that are so beautiful  
> And ornaments of gold  
> Warm my soul from the growing cold  
> Adorable, rewardable you  
> From head to toe, I'd love to cover you  
> And smother you in ornaments of gold  
> In honeydew, I'd love to cover you  
> Oh lover do bring  
> Ornaments of gold  
> Protect our hearts from this cruel world  
> Ornaments of gold  
> Ornaments of gold


	7. Horse With No Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A loyal steed

Jud washed his hands and dried them, left the kitchen and went to the front room to await his guests. The house was filled with the pleasant scent of rabbit stew, perfumed with rosemary and baking gently under a layer of pastry. Ross was riding his rocking horse, reins in hand, a dark lock of hair hanging over his face. He was clearly engaged in a dangerous mission that must not be interrupted. Jud watched the lad, riding towards whatever destiny he was imagining for himself. "Ee fightin' a dragon?" Ross looked to Jud with a serious expression. "Yes! I am saving the princess from the dragon," Ross turned to look forward once more "I am almost there... I will slay the dragon and then I will bring her home. She will be home in time for supper..." Jud sat in an armchair. "Aye," smiled Jud as he leaned forward and petted Tabitha Bethia. "Best to get 'er 'ome afore supper..." Ross' toy made a mellow, creaking against the wooden floor. Ross' uncle, Charles, had sent it along with the other furnishings of the house. It was as grand and elegant as any of the chairs or cabinetry. A wooden horse, expertly carved in a realistic manner. It was painted dappled grey with real horse hair for the tail, reins of richly tanned burgundy leather attached with bright brass studs and shiny glass eyes that gave an air of realism to its gentle face. It rocked on fanciful wooden rockers that had a curl of a sea's wave decorating the tips, front and back. Ross dispatched the dragon. Unlike other children who might woop and pretend excitedly, Jud knew Ross was in the midst of his combat because the rocking began to slow. Ross was dreaming of his heroic fight, "seeing" his adventure in his head. The rocking horse stilled as he considered each thrust and pary, the dangerous fire that the beast breathed forth as he dodged the flames, the vanquished dragon lying on the forest floor and the grateful princess who thanked him and invited him to her castle to have supper and be knighted by her papa. Ross was brought out of his reverie by a knock at the door. He blinked, turned in the carved saddle to smile at Jud. Prudie and Dem had arrived. Jud stood and helped Ross down from the horse. Though but a boy, it was Ross' house and it was fitty for him to greet his guests alongside Jud. Jud opened the door and bade the ladies enter. Once inside the gents bowed and the ladies curtsied. "Thank ee fer 'aving us, Jud Paynter." said Prudie as Jud bowed over her hand. "Aye, ee be welcome, ma'am..." Jud's eyes crinkled as he smiled at the little girl. Dem was a pretty little thing. "'Ello, M'lady..." Dem smiled brightly. "Good day to ee, sir." Ross' smile made his cheeks rounder. "Hello, Dem!" Dem barely said her own hello before Ross took her by the hand and brought her to meet his horse. "I fought a dragon!" said Ross. "Oh!" Dem thought that very exciting. "Was it a fierce dragon?" she asked. They discussed Ross' valorous adventure in an animated manner. Jud motioned for Prudie to sit and Tabitha Bethia rubbed around her ankles in greeting. Prudie smiled down at the cat and then smiled toward Jud who was helping Dem, lifting her up to place her on the rocking horse. Ross admired Dem on the wooden horse. She played with the reins by moving them up and down and laughed gently as she kept her balance, rocking to and fro. She wore the green smock he had first seen her in. It was becoming a favorite of Ross'. Dem was excited to play on such a pretty horse and happy that Jud didn't mind her riding like a boy. She sat astride and went as fast as any boy, on a horse who was strong and beautiful. Ross sat with Tabitha Bethia on the floor and watched Dem ride. She giggled and smiled and then turned her glance to Ross sitting on the floor with his cat. He smiled up at her. "I'm going to the fair!" said Dem. "That will be fun!" smiled Ross. "What will you do at the fair?" asked Ross. Dem rocking a little faster. "I will see the storyteller and buy sweets!" and she brought the reins up and down a bit faster. "And I'll buy a top!" Ross' eyebrows raised. "Really? Do girls like tops? Do you want to play with my top?!" Dem looked to Ross in excitement. Ross and Jud let her play with his toy soldiers and ride the rocking horse and Ross wanted to let her use his top too! "Can I?!" Ross scrambled up and went to his bedroom to retrieve the top. In the interim, Jud helped Dem off of the rocking horse. He set her on her feet and smiled as she curtsied her thank you. Jud excused himself to check on the food and Ross came back with the wooden top in his hands. "Dem! You will like this top! It spins ever so long!" He wound the string round the upper portion of the top and flung it with the little wooden handle. It spun merrily and the children crouched down to watch as it spun fast and strong, slowed, wavered and chugged along a wobbly path by the hearth as it began to slow. It remained upright even as the momentum waned and spun out, falling to its side. "Can I?!" asked Dem, bright eyed and eager. "Yes!" Ross made to wind it for her but Jud said, gently, "Nay, lad. Let the maid wind un. Let 'er 'ave a proper turn." Ross blinked happily between them. "Yes, Jud." Ross handed Dem the stringed handle and the top. She enjoyed the feel of it, bulbous like a turnip but smooth turned wood that felt satiny in her hand. The handle was a turned finial, a smooth knob that finished with a tapered end. She wound the string under Ross' instruction. "Tight and close together!" he said, nodding his head that she was on the right track. She snapped back the handle and jumped up and down, in her place, as she watched it spin and Ross clapped his hands gleefully. It spun true and Dem hopped about like a fairy in her happiness over it, her curls bopping about her shoulders and a merry grin. "Yay!!" crowed Dem. Prudie and Jud exchanged a fond look. The children were happy and very sweet together. "Be supper time now. Ee can play wi' the top after un..." said Jud. They had a pleasant meal. The pattern of their days was new but the weekend became a familiar and happy ritual between their houses. They ate with Ross and Jud on Saturday, with Dem and Prudie on Sunday. Early conversations consisted of Prudie informing Jud of the shopkeepers in the village and where things might be procured for their household. Who the neighbors were, the dodgy plank to be avoided in the footbridge, the days when the fair and the annual markets came. As time passed, weeks and months passed, talk of what needed doing in the orchard, the chores that were completed in each house, the offer of assistance to the other house -eggs for the ladies, jam and knitted wares for the gents. The two households, slowly but surely, blended together. They would talk of many things. Jud told of the many changes in the seasons, when collecting mushrooms for drying was best done, when the birds and butterflies made their way to winter homes, when the trout were so thick in the river one might walk across their backs. Some information designed to inform, others to give the children a good laugh and imagine what it might be like to step in the back of a helpful trout or even ride one. Ride a fish in the river as one might ride a rocking horse and laugh with your friend over the idea. Prudie told of superstitions and old tales, not that she believed mind, but there was some wisdom to be had even in tales so old they were told in her granny's day. They ate their supper and there were raspberries and cream for afters. They returned to the front room contented and Jud and Prudie sat with a Sampson each, a glass of cider and a touch of sugar mixed with brandy, and spoke of this and that as Ross and Dem took turns with his top. At length they bade Dem to sit on Prudie's lap and Ross sat on Jud's, by the unlit hearth. Safe in the crook of an arm and well fed, happy from having had good play, Ross and Dem listened to Jud tell them a fairy story all about a brave prince who slayed a very fierce dragon and the lovely fête that the kingdom had to celebrate the demise of the monster. There were jousts and feats of skill, conjurers and jugglers. There were damsels in pretty gowns who let their favorite knights keep their handkerchiefs as a token and revelry enough to last into the night with lanterns and torches to brighten dancing under the stars. Ross smiled at Dem, across from him. She smiled back, blinking slowly, smiled at Ross and Jud and looked to the rocking horse in the corner. She would joust in a tournament next time. She would ride like the brave prince and then wear a pretty dress to the fête afterwards... surely a girl could do both... Ross liked the idea of a big party. Wouldn't it be lovely to have a big party and all could dance into the night and have sweets and syllabubs? 'I should like a party like that...' thought Ross.

"They's asleep..." whispered Prudie.

"Aye, won't 'urt none t'let 'em nap like. Wake 'em in a bit..." said Jud quietly.

She lay an affectionate cheek on Dem's head. "Ee be a right good tale teller, Jud Paynter. Ee could be one a them tellers at the fair!" Jud chuckled a bit. "I liked a good tale, since I be a nipper. Ee ever been t'Redruth?" Prudie shook her head 'no' but gently enough so as not to disturb Dem. "Good players be at all the fairs, but the good storytelling were always thur at Redruth Fair. The old'uns tha knew all ee could know be there..." He sat up a little and gave Ross a little more support by bringing his other arm round, Ross did not wake but seemed to snuggle closer under Jud's chin. Jud gave a satisfied smile.

"Some of the best tales ee could hear be at Redruth fair, market day...many a good tale be from there..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horse With No Name, America 1972
> 
> On the first part of the journey  
> I was looking at all the life  
> There were plants and birds and rocks and things  
> There was sand and hills and rings  
> The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz  
> And the sky with no clouds  
> The heat was hot and the ground was dry  
> But the air was full of sound
> 
> I've been through the desert on a horse with no name  
> It felt good to be out of the rain  
> In the desert you can remember your name  
> 'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain  
> La, la ...
> 
> After two days in the desert sun  
> My skin began to turn red  
> After three days in the desert fun  
> I was looking at a river bed  
> And the story it told of a river that flowed  
> Made me sad to think it was dead
> 
> You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name  
> It felt good to be out of the rain  
> In the desert you can remember your name  
> 'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain  
> La, la ...
> 
> After nine days I let the horse run free  
> 'Cause the desert had turned to sea  
> There were plants and birds and rocks and things  
> there was sand and hills and rings  
> The ocean is a desert with it's life underground  
> And a perfect disguise above  
> Under the cities lies a heart made of ground  
> But the humans will give no love
> 
> You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name  
> It felt good to be out of the rain  
> In the desert you can remember your name  
> 'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain  
> La, la ...


	8. The Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banditry

The gate door from next door seemed to move of its own accord, for Ross was small. He looked around the gate at Prudie who looked up from tending her sea pinks, deadheading the blooms that had lived their last, to strengthen the plants growth. Ross' forelock obscured one eye as the other blinked a winsome hello over the curl of his fingers, clutching the gate. "G'morning, Master Ross," she smiled. Ross advanced forward and his eyes scrunched in a sunnier smile. He opened them again and came to stand in the yard by the gate door as it closed. "Good morning Prudie," he said politely. The high formalities of his greetings had lessened as he became such a frequent visitor, but he still exuded the deference of a gentleman who approached the lady of the house. Prudie, still crouched over her sea pinks was quite near his size in this position as he spoke to her, mirroring her smile. "May I play with Dem, please?" She stood and wiped her hands on her apron, though they were not soiled as such. She extended her hand and Ross trotted forward to take hold of it. "Aye lad, she be in the parlor..." The gate door to the yard opened. Garrick raised his head to see his mistress and her guest. Dem smiled over Garrick's head as Ross came in with Prudie. "Look ee oo came t'call t'day, Dem..." Ross rushed forward. "Good morning, Dem!" Dem stood and they exchanged their bow and curtsy to Prudie's amusement. "Good morning, Ross! What shall we play...?" Prudie, satisfied that they would be content indoors bade them play by the hearth while she continued her garden chores, and patted their heads in order, first Dem, then Ross, then Garrick and each of them bloomed under Prudie's regard. She went back out to the yard. They worked at clapping 'Thunder and Lightning' and Ross' skill was improving. Dem had a stout piece of string that Prudie had knotted into a loop for her and they played cat's cradle as Garrick looked on with interest. Dem explained to Ross how to pull the string, this way and that, to make pretty patterns and he crowed with glee when they managed to make a six pointed star. It set over their fingertips and looked very smart. "We have heart cakes today," said Dem. "I do hope you'll stay to tea!" Ross nodded his head, vigorously. "Jud will fetch me at tea time and he said he would stay as well, we shall have tea all together!" Dem coiled the string and set it aside. "I wish tea was soon, I would like a heart cake..." sighed Ross. "We could look at the heart cakes, Prudie wouldn't mind..." said Dem standing up and straightening her red smock.

Ross and Dem crossed through the house to the kitchen but their height was such the cakes could not be seen. Dem dragged a chair from the kitchen table to the counter and bade Ross climb it. Ross pulled himself up and knelt on the seat of the chair and could now see the top of the counter. There, on a creamware plate, lay the objects of Ross' desire. Golden, heart shaped cakes with a bare tinge of brown at the edges and a gentle plumpness about them. They tasted of butter and rosewater and the sweetness of fine grained sugar from the market. Ross sighed. Dem smiled, for Ross' sigh was very much like words. 'Wouldn't it be nice to have one now...' he might have said. Dem, considering herself a polite hostess and, if truth be told, feeling a bit peckish herself, felt it might not be a poor idea to have a heart cake. A small snack to tide them over. "There are quite a few! Mayhaps two wouldn't be missed..." said Dem, encouragingly. Ross looked down from his perch on the seat of the chair. Jud often reminded Ross that meals were meals and snacks were snacks and one should not take precedence over the other. It was fitty to wait for proper tea rather than indulge in an taste too early. On the other hand, Dem was offering. It would be unseemly to refuse... "If we share one, then surely one will not be missed!" said Ross. Dem smiled, that was quite clever, only one missing should not raise suspicion. Dem went to the gate door and peeked over the side. Prudie was still gardening. Dem nodded to Ross, that the coast was clear. One aspect of a small frame, as Ross was soon to find, was that one's arm length was not in any way equal to a grown person's. The plate was out of reach, the barest bit and he was at a loss to secure a cake. He could stretch and get tantalizingly close but not quite reach the plate. Ross turned to sit on the kitchen chair, dejected. "It's no use Dem! They are too far away!" Dem and Ross were disappointed. Having willed themselves into believing they could have an illicit heart cake, they felt its loss quite keenly. Dem crossed her arms and had a think. Ross watched her with interest. Dem was very clever. She might well have a solution. Ross was rewarded with the sight of her hopping up and down and gleefully clapping her hands. "You have an idea?!" asked Ross, hopefully. "Yes! We must change places!" she called over her shoulder as she rushed back to the parlor. Ross slithered off the chair and watched Dem return with the cat's cradle string. He watched her rush past him and climb the kitchen chair, bobbling a little for the hem of her smock and her knees, clad in knitted tights, were a bit slippy. When Dem was secure in her position she shook out the string in her hands and flung the looped edge of it at the plate. Ross jumped a bit to try and see the counter. Dem moved over and Ross climbed in the chair seat next to her. "Oh! You are so clever Dem!" said Ross, very much impressed. Dem pouted. Having nearly yoked a cake with the string, it slipped off. "I missed..." she said. "Try again, Dem! I'm sure it will work!" Ross held the chair back for the two of them in the chair at once was not quite enough room for either of them. He wanted to see Dem catch a cake, though, so he resisted coming back down. Dem shook out the loop of string once more and they giggled as they shared a look of excited anticipation. She flung the string at the plate and succeeded in getting it around the plate itself. "Oh! Oh my!" said Ross, nearly falling off the chair in his excitement. "Pull it slowly, Dem! It will bring the plate nearer!" Dem, with care, pulled the string towards them, with stealth and concentration. The plate of cakes slid forward for the string had caught around the ridge it sat upon and dragged across the counter. Closer. Closer. Ross and Dem stared at their prize as it came near. As they became satisfied that victory was at hand, the gate door to the yard opened. The sound of the gate, heralding Prudie's return, startled the children so, on their precarious perch, that Dem and Ross fell off the kitchen chair. The startle jolted both of them. The ease with which the fabric of Dem's dress slid upon the wooden seat and so much of the seat taken up by sharing it with Ross made them fall to the floor.

Prudie, with Garrick not far behind, came upon a jumble of children on the kitchen floor as the plate of heart cakes sailed over them both and landed with a crash on the floor for Dem had kept hold of the string as she fell and the plate was dragged off the counter entirely. Though they were not hurt in their fall, Ross and Dem, startled and afraid, first by Prudie's entrance and then by the sound of the plate breaking, confronted with Prudie looking over the scene in ill temper, the heart cakes scattered about the floor among pieces of broken plate, caught as it were 'red handed', both, independently, came to the most common solution of small children. They sat up with quavering bottom lips and began to cry.

Prudie, not in the least bit amused to see her heart cakes on the floor and her plate broken, looked from one child to the other as Ross and Dem sniffled their way through their own explanations. Each child murmuring a tearful account, at mile a minute, of their part of the scheme, heedless to the other's talk and, valiantly, trying not to get the other into trouble. She sighed. In time they fell silent, save sniffles. "Ee knows full well not t'be filchin' them cakes!" She was cross but helped each of them up with the same tender care as always. "Ee broke the plate of 'em an' all! Ee march yerselves right t'the parlor! Ee'll sit 'til tea an' be fitty!"

"Yes, Prudie." They said, glumly.

"Tea is not for ages..." Whispered Dem, sadly, dangling her feet dejectedly from her chair. Ross lay his head back, against the wall. Prudie demanded they sit in opposite corners of the parlor until tea and consider their crimes in seriousness until Jud came to call. "Yes," whispered Ross. "We may grow very old! We'll be like the old pirates that sit in the stocks and have white hair!" Dem's eyes widened. "Oh! I had not thought of that! What if Jud will not recognize us! You might grow a beard!" Ross blinked in concern. "Oh! I shall have a beard and white hair and Jud will not know me!" Dem thought it through. "Mayhaps he would for we will still be small!" she suggested. Ross smiled, relieved. "That's true! We might get white hair, waiting for tea, but I shouldn't think we'll grow bigger before tea!" Prudie called from the kitchen. "Ee sit quiet now..." "Yes, Prudie." They said. However much age or white hair one could gain in an hour they spent their time of disgrace quietly. They considered their own laps, their fingers, the sunlight along the floor. They were grateful for Garrick, a benevolent warden who went from one to the other at regular intervals and panted encouragement towards them as they petted him. There was a knock at the door.

Prudie crossed through the room to open the door. Ross and Dem bowed their heads for Jud was soon to learn of their dastardly deed. After polite greetings Jud entered and stopped short for the children were seated apart and clearly in some sort of disgrace. "Wha be this then?" asked Jud. Ross, who had the honor of his family name at his back stood up from his chair and faced Jud in seriousness. "I broke a plate in the kitchen, trying to have a cake before tea..." Dem scrambled off the chair to face Jud herself. "We both tried to take the cake..." He looked from one to the other and then to Prudie. "Beg pardon, Ma'am," said Jud. "Master Ross," he stood a little straighter. "Ee beg yer pardon to Mistress Lyon." Ross looked up at Prudie with contrite eyes. "I am very sorry, Mistress Lion, Ma'am..." Prudie resisted smiling, they were truly remorseful and both blinked up at her earnestly. The symmetry of her response reflected the gravity with with Ross gave his apology. She nodded. A spartan tea, for the cakes were gone. Ross and Dem drank their milk as Jud and Prudie drank their tea. The grown ups talked of grown up things and the children sat, obedient and quiet. Prudie stood, to bring away the empty cups of milk and returned with a gentle smile. The gents took their leave and Prudie turned to Dem. "Fetch yer boots, luv. Let's take Garrick for 'is walk." Dem brought her boots and sat in one of the armchairs as Prudie tied them. She brought over the piece of rope that served as Garrick's lead and they went out. They walked along, Dem holding Prudie's hand. They said hello to various neighbors, they walked along quietly and turned from the lanes to walk near the river. The day was pretty and the chirping of birds was cheering even as Dem was still downcast from the day's misadventure. "Dem..." said Prudie as Garrick puttered along. "Yes, Prudie." said Dem, looking up at Prudie. "Ee d'know betterer than tryin' to have cakes afore it be teatime..." Dem nodded, sadly. "Yes, Prudie," Prudie knelt to untie the rope and let Garrick have time to walk about free. Dem watched him quicken a little, old but still able to enjoy his freedom with a youthful flourish, flushing out a few birds that flew up from the grass as he walked along and explored the surroundings, happily. Still kneeling, Prudie lay her hand on Dem's head and let it rest there with affection. "You's a good maid, Dem," Prudie spoke eye to eye, without ire. "It ain't uncommon t'make mistakes sometimes. If ee be hungry then ee asks me an I'll find ee both a bit o bread, or fruit, or som'ing. But what's meant for tea ain't t'be taken wi'out askin', alright...?" Dem nodded. "Yes, Prudie." Prudie gave Demelza a hug and then rubbed the tip of her nose against hers which made Dem laugh. "Aye, maid," said Prudie, as she gently touched her finger to Dem's nose and then gave her hand a squeeze as she stood up. "No more mopin', Dem. Ee learned yer lesson an' all. Come, let's catch Garrick up!" Dem smiled wider and they walked, hand in hand, as Garrick trotted ahead of them in the pretty afternoon.

Ross had a quiet afternoon. He sat with his toy soldiers and played a little, sat a bit listless at times. He sat with Tabitha Bethia not as chatty as he often was with the cat. Jud was making supper and looked to Ross who peeked around the kitchen door debating whether to enter. "Master Ross...?" Ross came in and climbed on a chair, knelt on his knees in much the same way as he had done in Dem's house. He crossed his arms over the back of the chair and rested his chin there as he sighed. "I didn't mean to be naughty, Jud..." Jud spoke in seriousness. "Ee be a good lad, ee knows better now, don't ee? Knows not to be doin' tha again?" Ross nodded glumly. "Yes, Jud." Jud smiled, kindly. "I reckon we owes them next door a plate..." Ross looked to Jud with a sudden thought. "Could we give them one of ours?" Jud nodded. "Aye, but it be bad luck, like. To give someone an empty plate..." Ross perked up "Can you bake Prudie a treat?! We could put that on the plate!" Jud turned to tend supper on the stove with a smile. A simple meal of hot pease soup, bread and sliced ham. "Aye." he looked to Ross over his shoulder. "Wha say ee t'helpin' me bake a cake, after supper, an' give it them t'morrow?" Ross' glum mood evaporated. The chance to be helpful, in aid of restoring Prudie's plate, cheered him. "Oh yes, Jud! I can help! I would like to!" They sat to eat their meal and, between bites, considered what might be nice to bake for the ladies. After some consideration, a tea cake was chosen as best. It could be baked in a round tin and look fetching on a plate. Also, Jud was a crafty cook and mixed marmalade and cider in with the raisins and mixed peel, a subtle boost to the flavor of all and the cider added fuel to the yeast, making it rise even lighter. Not too fancy, not too plain. Just right. Fitty. After supper, Tabitha Bethia looked on with interest as Jud and Ross prepared the dough for the cake. Jud let Ross measure the fruit, add ingredients and help mix it in the large, earthenware bowl. Tabitha Bethia never witnessed the man carry the boy as a cat would do, held in his mouth by the neck, but she could see that he had as much regard for the boy as any mother cat would, despite being a human. Jud overlooked spills and helped in a gentle manner that let Ross feel he was as equal to the task as Jud, even as he was small. Ross enjoyed small triumphs like cracking eggs without too much shell falling in and watching the cider bubble and fizz as it poured, enjoyed tasting the bits of peel and raisins Jud allowed him. One could not give a cake as a gift without being certain the ingredients were good quality. They talked of this and that and before they knew it the dough was prepared and rising in the bowl. Ross was readied for bed. "When will it bake, Jud?" Asked Ross as his head popped out of his nightshirt. "When it be risen well, Ee'll be sleepin' by then..." But this was not so. Ross was thirsty and so came back down stairs, briefly. Later Ross thought, erroneously, he might have smelled it baking and came back down to investigate. Aware that the lad would continue this reconnaissance until it was truly in the oven, Jud suggested he sit at the table for the cake would be put in the oven soon. Ross sat at the kitchen table in his nightshirt with his feet dangling, chin perched over his hands, happily, waiting to see the tea cake go in the oven. Jud told Ross of butterflies who were very house proud and swept the floors clean with brooms made of red clover flowers and wiped things clean with dust cloths made of buttercup leaves. And, when all was tidy, they invited fairies to have tea and cake and were very good hosts. Soon the cake was risen enough to be baked. Jud let Ross lay a single curl of citrus peel in the center as a decoration and then he put it in the oven. "It be time for bed, Master Ross. I won't let no 'arm come t'the cake. Time for bed, lad..." Jud tucked him in. "Good night, Jud!" Ross smiled, for even now the scent of cake was wafting through the house. "Good night, Master Ross." 

The next morning Ross went to the kitchen, where Jud had already made porridge, and admired the tea cake. It rose beautifully. The curl of peel on its top was bronzed from the heat of the oven and looked very pretty. "Oh! Jud! They will like it, I'm sure! What plate shall we give them?!" Jud chuckled. "'Ave yer breakfast, Master Ross. Ee can pick 'em a plate after un." They ate their breakfast. Ross and Jud looked at the china and plate in the cabinet. Many were French, some were English. "That one!" said Ross. He pointed to an off white plate with a wreath of colorful flowers decorating the edge. "Prudie likes flowers!" Jud, carefully, pulled the plate out and agreed that the flowers were just the thing. Jud washed and dried it and set the tea cake upon it. They both admired it. "Tha be a fine cake on a fine plate!" said Jud and Ross nodded his agreement with pride. He helped make the cake and Prudie would have a pretty plate to replace the broken one. They tidied the kitchen and Jud combed Ross' hair. He checked his own, in the mirror in the back of the cabinet and, together, left by the front door, Jud bearing a plate of cake, to give it to the ladies. Garrick raised his head having heard a knock on the door. Prudie opened it to find Jud Paynter and young Master Ross, looking up at her happily, Jud holding a handsome looking cake on a plate in his hands. "Prudie! Jud made you a cake! And I helped! And we have a plate for you, because your other plate got broken!" She exchanged a fond smile with Jud and looked at Ross fondly too. "Aw, tha be handsome of ee, Master Ross. Thank ee." She patted his cheek and his smile widened. He had made amends. "Do come in!" said Prudie. Ross entered and Jud followed with a smile. Dem came in and the children were allowed to play in the yard until all was ready for tea and cake. They scampered outside through the gate door and Garrick followed for small humans were always entertaining. Prudie thanked Jud as he placed the plate of cake on her table.

"Mayhaps it ain't too early to 'ave a taste of cake?" said Prudie.

"We could call it elevenses..." said Jud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde, Georgie Fame 1967
> 
> Bonnie and Clyde were pretty lookin' people  
> But I can tell you people They were the devil's children,  
> Bonnie and Clyde began their evil doin'  
> One lazy afternoon down Savannah way,  
> They robbed a store, and high-tailed outa that town  
> Got clean away in a stolen car,  
> And waited till the heat died down,  
> Bonnie and Clyde advanced their reputation  
> And made the graduation  
> Into the banking business.  
> "Reach for the sky" sweet-talking Clyde would holler  
> As Bonnie loaded dollars in the dewlap bag
> 
> We'll be like the old pirates that sit in the stocks: a common punishment as early as the 1500s was to sit in the stocks. One's head and hands or feet were restrained in holes cut in a wooden board and they stood or sat displayed to the community with the infraction written on a sign nearby or even hung around their necks for public shaming.


	9. Dog And Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Butterflies and their ways

"Jud says that butterflies look after their houses very well!" said Ross. "They make everything tidy and then invite fairies to take tea with them!" The children sat on a patchwork quilt in the yard, having had their nap, and watched a butterfly sitting on the lilac tree. It was quite still and then flapped its wings open and shut as if remembering itself and wanting to look distinguished. Dem liked to think of butterflies having tea with fairies. Wouldn't it be a pretty thing to see? All colored wings and fairy dust sparkling... "I wish we could invite fairies to tea!" sighed Dem. "Do you think they eat cake?" wondered Dem. Ross nodded, vigorously. "Oh yes! Fairies must like cake! They must be very small cakes though... Butterflies are small so they wouldn't have large ovens." That made sense. The butterfly crawled along a stalk of lilac, flew away from it and then returned to alight upon a branch a little lower. "We should have fairies to tea!" said Dem. "How?" asked Ross. "If we ask the butterfly to tea and it says yes then we could ask it to bring fairies to tea." Dem nodded her head as she spoke, secure in the sound solution of this plan. Ross looked at the butterfly, still walking upon the lilacs. Dem could tell Ross was thinking because he had a little cleft appear between his eyebrows and then became smooth again. "I don't think butterflies speak English..." said Ross. Dem frowned. "Maybe they talk to grown up people! Maybe Prudie could ask! Prudie could ask the butterfly nicely and it would invite the fairies!" Dem ran to the gatedoor with Ross close behind to see if this was possible. "Prudie?" Prudie turned from her floor sweeping in the kitchen to see Demelza and Ross looking up at her. "Aye, Dem?" She smiled at her niece and then to Ross who's smile trebled in return. "Can grown ups talk to butterflies?" Prudie looked perplexed. "I reckon anyone can talk to a butterfly but they ain't likely to talk back!" "Oh..." Ross and Dem looked disappointed. "Why do ee needs t'talk to a butterfly?" asked Prudie. Ross began talking in an animated manner. "Jud said butterflies often take their tea with fairies and we wanted to ask the butterfly in the yard to take tea with us and invite the fairies it knows have tea with us too!" Prudie smiled. "Well lad, we can have our tea in the yard and mayhaps a butterfly might see an' want to 'ave some cake. Them fairies might come along t'be neighborly like." The children agreed and when it was time for tea they sat in the yard. It was bright with sunlight and the pretty blooms and plants of the garden scented the air. Prudie laid them all tea with almond cake, milk for the children and a nice cup of tea for herself. Dem lay a sprig of lilac flowers that Prudie cut from the lilac tree on a fourth plate Prudie set on the table in anticipation of more guests. Both children hoped that a butterfly might like to join them, knowing lilac flowers to be a firm favorite and possible lure. Ross broke off crumbs from his piece of cake and lay them next to the lilacs that the butterfly might have its choice and not be overwhelmed by too large a piece of almond cake. Prudie sipped her tea and watched Ross and Dem eating cake very slowly, staring at the crumbs and lilacs, hoping that a butterfly would join them and bring its fairy friends. "'Ave yer milk, luv..." said Prudie. "Yes, Prudie." As Dem picked up her glass she suddenly gasped. Ross and Prudie turned to look at her. "What is it Dem?" asked Ross. Dem whispered with a wide eyed smile. "Look at Garrick!" Prudie turned to look and Ross turned kneeling in his seat, looking past Dem to see Garrick taking a nap by the gate door and a butterfly sitting on his head between his ears. "Well I'll be..." chuckled Prudie. Ross' face was quite near Dem's as they watched the butterfly preening, its wings flapping in a languid manner and seemingly very content on Garrick's head. "Maybe the butterflies and fairies had their tea already... Maybe they went out to play now..." whispered Ross. Dem looked disappointed for all she liked seeing a butterfly standing on Garrick's head. "Oh! I suppose you're right. It would have been nice to have them to tea!" She whispered back. The butterfly seemed to consider its position as it walked a few inches down Garrick's snout and then flew off. Prudie, Dem and Ross followed its fluttering trail throughout the yard as if all three were in the thrall of a snake charmer's flute, swiveling their heads to and fro to keep sight of it as it wove back and forth fluttering in an eccentric path. After weaving prettily through the yard the butterfly fluttered over the wall and away. They looked to Garrick as he slept on none the wiser. "Do you think butterflies sit on our heads when we sleep, Prudie?" asked Ross. She stood to begin to clear the tea things. "If'n they did, we'd be sleepin' so we'd not know it!" She set one plate on top of another. "Butterflies be fitty creatures, they ain't likely t'be abroad at night. They's probably sittin' in their parlor wi' a mendin' basket or gettin' t'bed themselves tha time of night..." This seemed reasonable. "Can we play in the orchard, Prudie?" asked Dem. "Oh yes!" said Ross still on his knees in the chair. "Can we play in the orchard, Prudie? Jud is there! He can bring Dem back!" Prudie stood holding plates. "Tha is as may be, Master Ross, but I'll come wi'ee just the same. We'll tidy up tea an' then ee can play." She looked at Dem's shoes. "Fetch yer boots, luv. Them shoes be better in the yard. Ee wants proper boots t'be running about..."

Prudie sat with Jud who took time from his chores to conduct the pleasant task of hosting his neighbor. The children were chasing each other in the orchard grove and their laughter carried on the breeze as Jud and Prudie had raspberry cordial, quiet conversation and the butterflies fluttered about the blooming flowers as the children played among the apple trees in the soft sunlight of a pleasant afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog And Butterfly, Heart 1978
> 
> There I was with the old man  
> Stranded again so off I'd ran  
> A young world crashing around me  
> No possibilities of getting what I need  
> He looked at me and smiled  
> Said "No, no, no, no, no child  
> See the dog and butterfly  
> Up in the air he likes to fly."  
> Dog and butterfly  
> Below she had to try  
> She roll back down to the warm soft ground, laughing  
> She don't know why, she don't know why  
> Dog and butterfly  
> Well I stumbled upon your secret place  
> Safe in the trees you had tears on your face  
> Wrestling with your desires frozen strangers  
> Stealing your fires, the message hit my mind  
> Only words that I could find  
> See the dog and butterfly  
> Up in the air he like to fly  
> Dog and butterfly below she had to try  
> She roll back down to the warm soft ground  
> Laughing to the sky, up to the sky  
> Dog and butterfly  
> We're getting older the world's getting colder  
> For the life of me I don't know the reason why  
> Maybe it's livin' making us give in  
> Hearts rolling in taken back on the tide  
> We're balanced together ocean upon the sky  
> Another night in this strange town  
> Moonlight holding me light as down  
> Voice of confusion inside of me  
> No begging to go back where I'm free  
> Feels like I'm through  
> Then the old man's words are true  
> See the dog and butterfly  
> Up in the air he like to fly  
> Dog and butterfly, below she had to try  
> She roll back down to the warm soft ground  
> With a little tear in her eye  
> She had to try, she had to try  
> Dog and butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> Lovesong, The Cure 1989
> 
> Whenever I'm alone with you  
> You make me feel like I am home again  
> Whenever I'm alone with you  
> You make me feel like I am whole again  
> Whenever I'm alone with you  
> You make me feel like I am young again  
> Whenever I'm alone with you  
> You make me feel like I am fun again  
> However far away  
> I will always love you  
> However long I stay  
> I will always love you  
> Whatever words I say  
> I will always love you  
> I will always love you  
> Whenever I'm alone with you  
> You make me feel like I am free again  
> Whenever I'm alone with you  
> You make me feel like I am clean again  
> However far away  
> I will always love you  
> However long I stay  
> I will always love you  
> Whatever words I say  
> I will always love you  
> I will always love you


End file.
